


A little something called appreciation..

by MonroseMeadows



Category: Watch_Dogs, Wrencus - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Wrencus, attempt at fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 18:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14753903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonroseMeadows/pseuds/MonroseMeadows
Summary: This one is short, and with reason. It has no plot, though if read between the lines, you might make one up for yourself.Just two friends sharing a little thing called appreciation for one another.





	A little something called appreciation..

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: the song You Are The Reason, by Calum Scott. -- It was included in a playlist I made not too long ago,  
> and it fueled all the right emotions for this short work to come to life. -- Relationship may or may not be implied.
> 
> My mind is a mess right now, and I needed to ground myself in some way.

A little something called appreciation.

It had been silent. No sexualized jokes of the inappropriate kind were carried over radio-waves, no sledgehammer lifted up into the air and sent crashing down onto an unsuspicious toaster - none of that, just tinnitus birthing silence. Marcus looked up from the laptop positioned on his lap - his dark eyes darting between the other two hackers. Josh Sauchak, a young man of the introverted kind - kept mostly to himself, and deemed adding to the conversation necessary only if it held a purpose. Sporting a bit of an unusual social-awkwardness, but a good heart hid within his core. He sat at the far end of the rounded table in the hacker space, entranced by whatever it was he might be working on - as per usual. And Sitara Dwahan, an outspoken woman with the needed leadership capabilities to guide Dedsec's operations into succession -- scrolling through page after page of classified military documentations - stolen classified military documentation. The silence raged on for a short while longer, before Marcus felt like he couldn't take it anymore. He put his laptop down on the empty cushion next to him, and drew in some air as he stretched both of his legs.

It had been like this for a solid week. Marcus would travel down to the game store with the intention of killing some time with his friends, only to find Sitara and Josh shrouded in painful silence, kept to themselves and their work in an attempt at avoiding an inevitable conversation regarding the absence of a certain masked anarchist. It wasn't unlike Wrench to want some alone time - behind the young adult's harsh exterior front, lay a frail, but damaged soul. Wrench ran his big, unfiltered mouth round the clock - the contents of his words often viewed as crude and unorthodox - but turned mute once a barrier shielding his troubled past from his less-troubled present was breached. The ones closest to him, had grown accustomed to said behavior, knowing better than to press the man's spiked buttons. But this time it was significantly different - it ran deeper than the established, deep-seethed self-loathing that colored the man's identity. Something was wrong.

The silence had grown more than intolerable, and with that realization in mind, the black hacker rose to his feet. A pair of grey eyes belonging to a green-hooded adult found his, and for a brief moment it looked like he was about to speak up - but the silence that filled the room remained strong. Josh was known as the observant type, largely laid dormant as to not disturb the present atmosphere, but once he locked eyes with someone, it was fair game to think he had picked up on something. A crack in reading every emotion, he himself, struggled with to express or expose - he was a load-carrying pillar within the DedSec infrastructure. Marcus readjusted the black-rimmed glasses that rested on his nose - unable in deciding what he wanted his hands to do. The gentle tapping of fingers pressing down on keyboards, resonated in the background - and despite it being such a familiar sound to his ears, easily drowned out due to substantial exposure - at the moment it got under his skin. For some reason, still unexplained, the vacancy of an animated black figure strutting around in playful content, corrupted the general flow of the situation. DedSec wasn't complete without the loose-cannon addition of Wrench. 

"You could just send him a text. He will respond to you. Or check the roof."

Both Marcus and Sitara exited the vast landscape within their own minds, turning to glance at the calm brunet, that hadn't even broken his line of sight with the computer. Two pairs of eyes darted between each other and said green-hooded hacker, until they locked. Surely Marcus' mind had covered that ground - and yes, Wrench would, without a doubt or a moment's worth of hesitation, reply to any text Marcus would send his way. Regardless of its contents, or lack-there-off. And Marcus had treasured that grasp - having utmost respect for the dynamic he had vested between himself and the rebellious engineer. It had been so natural and organic from the start - an introduction to the chaos that is Wrench, in the form of a simple display of the Vulcan greeting. It had been faint - a gentle voice whispering word of confirmation right into his ear - but that simple greeting had given life to the start of a valuable friendship. A connection that defied definitions, and ran deeper than mere flesh and blood. Newfound reasons to invest and improve his very being - meaning brought to his actions, in the form of an LED-infested mask.  
Sitara had turned back to her sticker-decorated laptop, much like Josh, taking in the sounds of keys being pushed down, humming hardware and lights - and the occasional passing car or pedestrian. A Bustling city kept below, yet close enough to be interacted with, if so desired. 

It all clicked into place in the tanned hacker's head - A safe haven presenting one with the reassuring ability of staying hidden once reached, yet left out in the open to the extend of still having power of one's interaction with the world. The man spun on the balls of his feet, and danced over the length of the metallic staircase - the two forgotten hackers sharing an approving nod of the head, underlined by just the right amount of understanding and care. The heavy safety door swung open, allowing a young adult to move through. Eardrums met with murmurous amounts of rock music - a screeching guitar complimenting a man's spirited voice - aggressive in nature, yet soothing to one set of ears in particular. Marcus smiled at the sight of Wrench sitting in a lotus-pose, his trusty laptop balancing atop a pair of slender legs. A hooded head bounced on the rapidly growing rhythm of the music, small shoulders imitating said motion to a lesser extend. A rebel looking for reassurance within rebellious music, a troubled individual resorting to troubling lyrics to provide means of escape - no matter what spin was given to the situation, it complimented the genetic makeup of Wrench.

The silence had finally been broken, given, it was by the mother of eardrum bursting types of music - but that was but a mere detail. Just the sight of seeing Wrench finding a way to rearrange his cluttered string of thoughts - in the form of animated head movements - brought a wave of content reassurance to the black man. The sudden visual he was treated to, quickly growing into something endearing. A heavily headbanging punk, completely lost in the never ending strands of music and cries against the system coming from the singer - violent to some, but familiar to Marcus. He picked up the pace his feet hiked in, dropping his semi-muscular build down next to a significantly smaller one. When he reached for one of the earplugs, the blonde turned to him in surprise. His prominent and unique-to-him features void of an expected protective barrier, as it lay next to him on the concrete construction. Careful blue eyes found a warmer, and darker pair, and soon he felt his thin lips match the small smile on Marcus' lips. He allowed the black hacker the time it needed to push the earplug into his ear, before closing his eyes again, and resuming to his acquainted coping mechanism. The smile never leaving the corner of Marcus' mouth as he felt his eyelids fall shut. The music not being his cup of tea aside, sharing in Wrench's moment of inner healing, made up for it in the very least..


End file.
